A Taste of Honey
by Sis Spiffy
Summary: "Pull up a chair, let me tell you about my travels with the Dragonborn. It's amazing where five hundred septims will take you." Marcurio recounts his tale of adventuring with the Dragonborn.


Oops! I may have accidentally slipped a rant about the Dark Brotherhood in there! So sue me.

Actually, don't, because I don't own the Dark Brotherhood, or Skyrim for that matter. I don't even own the laptop I typed this on.

* * *

I threw back another tankard of ale. I never cared for the honeyed taste of mead. I much preferred the bitter alcohol as it was a testimony to my pathetic existence.

Soon the moon hung high in the sky and the memories came rushing out.

I began my tale, the same one I told every time I drunk myself into a sick state for the coming morning. "Her name was Clarissa! But she was so much more! She was a warrior! A hero! Our hero, the Dragonborn!" After the begrudging applause, I continued, "A beautiful Redguard, short and slight, but don't let that fool you! As dangerous as she was beautiful, she could sneak in and steal your very heart without you noticing.

Her beauty caught my eye the second she walked into our own little Bee and the Barb. I wanted the dark-skinned woman to come speak to me and I was confident of my skills, having just returned from the Mage College in Winterhold. She looked interesting, and I knew she'd lead me somewhere fun; call it Mage's intuition. She didn't speak to me for the longest time, but I still watched her, and she came in every once in a while. Her armor and weapons were always changing. One time fur armor, then forsworn, studded, leather, then she came one day with all the elaborate buckles of the Thieves Guild armor crossing her torso and it hasn't changed since. A dagger was always securely fastened on her hip, that was her one constant. Though the dagger was always changing, the same scabbard stayed on her hip. No swords ever adorned her body, nor did any weapon besides a dagger and a bow. An archer, and a thief, a dangerous combination, I knew, but I continued to watch her, waiting for a word.

Three months of her coming and going went on before she spoke to me for the first time. Her first words were brash, and could come off as rude, but I had waited so long for the Redguard to talk to me, that I didn't mind.

"Why are you always sitting there? Why do you never leave?"

"My skills in battle are unmatched, fortunately for you, those skills can be bought."

She scoffed, but still asked how much.

"Five hundred septims."

She rolled her eyes and handed me a pouch of money. It was a little light, but I took it and stood up anyway.

"Get a good night's rest, we're heading out tomorrow." She called out to me in her thick Hammerfell accent while she handed ten septims to the owner of the Barb for a room.

Before the sun had even thought about making an appearance, I was woken by a heavy bundle being dropped on my stomach. I shot up quicker than she had anticipated and the package fell off my stomach and on to the floor with a heavy thud.

"Carry that." She nodded towards the knapsack on the floor.

"I am an apprentice wizard, not a pack mule." She threw me a poisonous glare, "Oh very well, but make it quick."

She clicked her tongue and shook her head, "I paid the fine, you do as I ask. Now, what do you have weapon wise?"

I pulled out my steel dagger and showed her.

"Oh dear, well, come along then. We have work to do."

"I don't use the weapon much, I use magic." I held up my hand, sparks flying from it and she laughed. The girl had the nerve to laugh at me!

"Fancy magic isn't going to help when we're being stealthy, or in close range combat. You need a good weapon."

Some how I ended up being dragged behind her into the market place.

"Balimud! Sparky here needs a good dagger."

"...Sparky?" I asked, but I had lost her attention. She was appraising two daggers, one made of strong, quick glass and the other made of heavier, but sharper ebony.

"What do you think?" She asked me.

I picked up the ebony one, but it was heavy and didn't sit right in my hand. I then picked up the glass one. My fingers wrapped around the hilt and I held it up in a mock fighting stance. Perfect, the blade fit in my palm perfectly and felt like an extension of my hand.

"This one."

Clarissa handed over the money for the dagger and enough for a bar of refined machalite as well. I watched in awe as she skillfully sharpened my new dagger and handed it back to me. It would be the first of many gifts she gave me.

On her own hip sat a blade I'd never seen but I did not question it. She looked deadly, and the war paint streaked across her cheeks only added to the look. Watching her, I'd never realize how many weapons she has. A daedric bow rested on her back, and a dagger in the scabbard. Another dagger was stitched on the inside of her armor along with an array of lockpicks, and a small knife was tucked in her boot.

"Like an assassin." I murmured aloud as we traveled on a lonely path.

Clarissa turned back at me on her heel and brought her hand down hard and quick across my face.

"NOT an assassin!" She spat, "A thief. You work for me now, Sparky, and if you are a member of the Dark Brotherhood you may swear to give it up now, or you may receive a quick death."

I recoiled in shock for I knew not what to say, "No, I, um no. I thought you were a member of the Dark Brotherhood actually." I immediately regretted my words.

Her eyes narrowed into slits and she bared her teeth at me. An animalistic trait, I noted.

"Do you make me out as a killer? A murderer only in it for the money, a murderer for reasons as weak as a request? Don't make me laugh. The Dark Brotherhood is full of cowards. They're nothing more than pretentious bandits who think themselves high and mighty."

We walked in silence for a few moments before I spoke, "Alright, so, Thieves Guild yes. Dark Brotherhood, no. Anything else I should know?"

"I have beast blood." Came her short, simply reply.

I froze while she kept walking, unsure if I heard her correctly.

She casually looked over her shoulder at me, "Does that bother you?"

"No, no!" I managed to stutter out, "Just, I thought werewolves were only of legend." Falling back into step behind her, I rubbed the red mark where I had been hit. The archery had done her muscles some good.

She laughed, a hearty sound. "We're quite real. You have much to learn, apprentice." She threw my title back at me and my eyes fell on the landscape around us as we continued to walk.

We arrived at a Nordic ruin when the moon hung high in the sky.

"Let's go!" Her excitement was tangible.

"Are you crazy woman? We've traveled all day! We must rest before exploring a Nordic ruin."

She looked at me for a second like I was the crazy one, then realized her mistake, "I forgot, apprentices need their beauty sleep. I can never be well rested because of my beast blood, I forgot the same blood does not run through your veins. I apologize, Mage."

I bit back a sarcastic retort and put down a bed roll and fur blanket to sleep."

I noticed that someone entered the Bee and the Barb, but I didn't care, everyone in Rifton had heard my story by now. I continued my tale.

"I was roused before the sun had rose. This woman obviously had a love of waking before the sun.

Her warpaint was slightly smudged and I played with the thought of her being unable to sleep well and smiled at the thought.

Shortly after, the Redguard silently handed me a piece of bread and I scarcely had time to take a bite when she yanked my attention to the ruin.

"Listen, Sparky, don't get any ideas about running off with the loot. I am here for a certain item, it's a simple task really, but if you manage to muck it up, I'll make sure your reputation as a Sellsword is shattered. You mirror my moves, if I'm quiet, you are quiet, if I draw a weapon, unless I tell you not to, I expect you to as well. You got that? Lastly, do not let complain about tasks I assign you. For friend, your complaints fall upon deaf ears. Are we clear?" Her voice was low and had a serious edge to it.

Her tone scared me in ways I would never admit to her. I only nodded and we entered the Nordic ruin. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she drew her bow. She gestured at me to crouch and I obeyed the command, unsheathing the gifted dagger. However, she shook her head and bid me stay put.

I watched as she silently undid several traps. Catching my eye, she waved my forward and raised a finger to her lips.

The room we were facing was crowded with the undead. A shiver ran down my spine seeing the dead walking. It seemed almost unreal. Before that moment, the Draugr were only in books. They weren't real, but now...I shivered again. Perhaps I did have much to learn.

I hesitated to enter the room and the woman drew her bow. With a deadly precision, the thief dispatched the Draugr. Walking into the room, she yanked her arrows from their decrepit bones and placed them back in her quiver.

As we explored the crypt, my lessons from the Mage's College came back to me.

Looking into a throne room lined with Draugr, the Dragonborn let a silent sound of amazement slip at the sight.

"These ruins might be interesting...if I weren't already an expert on Nordic history!" Her eyes narrowed and she slapped my arm. Hmm, she must of been doubting my skill.

A Draugr sat in the throne in the center of the room, to his side was a chest. I eyed it, sure it contained enough for a round of mead.

"Draugr are slow and clumsy. Hardly a match for a man like me." I walked boldly towards the chest, not fearing the skeleton seated in the throne.

"Sparky!" I turned to see several other Draugr coming towards me, weapons raised.

What happened next was a blur, I only remember a sickening blow to my side and the sticky trickle of blood down my body. I heard the sounds of battle but my body was unable to move. I couldn't move my mouth to call out to Clarissa. I could only watch through half-lidded eyes as the woman fought. Her moves were swift and quick. There was a natural grace to her movements that hinted that she had done this before. After her blade sliced through the last Draugr, my world went black.

I woke up in the camp we put together outside the ruins. The woman sat, stitching up a wound on her arm. I attempted to sit up, a bad idea. My groan of pain brought her attention to me. She finished stitching her arm before calling out to me.

"How do you feel, Sparky?"

My head ached, my throat was dry and my side was on fire, but I nodded and assured her I was fine.

She looked at me for a long while, as if accessing my honesty before tossing a potion my direction. It landed on my stomach with a sick precision that only an archer could manage.

We decided to rest in front of the ruin for the evening, not wanting to risk further injury. I was woken, once again, before the sun rose.

"Let me see the stitches." I was half conciouss when the Redguard pulled my robes open. Her warm hands against my side jolted me into reality.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I pulled away from her and brought my robe together.

The woman reached for my robes again, "I need to see your stitches and check for infection." This time I relented and the Dragonborn went about her inspection as if this was a normal thing for her.

My side healed up nicely, thanks to the Redguard, but I still have a scar running down my side."

I pulled up my sleeve, revealing another pale scar.

"Let me give you a tip, never sneak up on a bow happy woman. I spooked her and I received an arrow to my upper arm. When she shot me, it was like suddenly I couldn't move. She must of hit a pressure point... My left handed spells were useless for about a week too.

My adventures with the Dragonborn were legendary, we went all over, doing quests for factions you'd never seen before. Adventure never scared me, I even calmed the woman on occasion. She would always take comfort in the fact that I was there.

We traveled all over Skyrim, in the low marshes and even up to the Throat of the World.

I was dismissed after she met up with an old follower, Faendal. Oh, how I loath that Elf. Took me away from her, you should have seen her reaction when she saw him. The normally reserved girl threw herself into his arms. It was disgusting.

Then she turned to me and told me to go home. I think her words were, "It's time for us to part ways." Just like that, dismissed me, after all our adventures.

Those seven simple words hurt.

i mumbled a quick, "So you think you can make it on your own then? We'll see about that." Then left.

I couldn't look back, I was disposable. How could she just get rid of me? I couldn't dwell too much on it, it hurt.

Walking home, I couldn't bring myself to enjoy the beautiful scenery. All of the sudden, I couldn't enjoy it without her by my side.

On the way home I tripped and scuffed the toe of my leather boots. The boots she gave me at the beginning of our adventures. She told me, "To get anywhere, you need a sturdy pair of boots first to get you there."

It wasn't a big deal in retrospect, but the small imperfection on the enchanted shoe was the catalyst of the explosion. I slumped down on the broken path and screamed. How stupid of me, she was gone.

Gods, what had happened? When she first hired me, she was nothing more than a silly girl, sharp tongued and impulsive. Then time passed, and she grew into a skilled woman. And what of me? Nothing, still a humble apprentice wizard. No great life lesson for me."

The tavern grew quiet and I took a swig of my ale to give me the strength to continue my tale.

"I don't know when or where, but sometime on our journey I fell in love with the plucky Redguard. Her trademark war paint was no longer silly, but a part of her. Her insistence on plucking every mountain flower she every found, then stringing them through her hair, leaving them in her house or giving them to children in passing villages, wasn't stupid, it was just her. Even how she sang, Gods, her voice! She was worse then a injured chicken when it came to singing, but that didn't stop her. I grew used to her butchered notes after about a month, and eventually learned to love them. Gods, I love her.

That's why I'll never leave. Maybe one day, she'll need me. I'll wait on this bench, forever if I have to, just in case she would rather roast her foes in a gout of arcane fire."

* * *

I've been so lazy lately, and the last two weeks have not given me any time to edit and finalize, so I hadn't had a chance to finish and edit this. I hope you liked it!

My brother didn't!

He was all like, "This isn't romance! This is angst!"

And I was all like, "Its _angsty _romance!"

Truth be told, I can't stand Marcurio. I was dared by my bro to go without my Faendal for a little while, so I took Sparky. Then I did the final Mage Guild quest and he disappeared! I was mad, he had good armor, but at least it wasn't my Faendal.


End file.
